#<- my favorite phrase in the whole world
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tamofthedragons · 5 months ago
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first order of business: posting all this art I've had kicking around. look at my bhoppers boy
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gemstarstarlight · 2 months ago
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“Ego is like a dish that only feeds you false fruit. Right? Like, the more that you eat off of your own ego, the more you starve your spirit.”
—Josh Johnson
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phrackingineffable · 1 year ago
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Anyone know who drew this? I found it on Facebook without credit.
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italiantea · 2 years ago
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him fucking ears
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ilostyou · 2 years ago
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one day i’ll compile a list of all my favorite mid song lyrical switches and then you’ll all see
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago
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fellow + gidel ssr time fellas
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(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME
***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***
First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):
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(School) Grade/Class: None
Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)
Age: 26
Height: 181 cm
Dominant Hand: Right
Hometown: ???
Club: None
Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)
Hobby: Watching theater
Dislikes: Saving money
Favorite Food: Apples
Least Favorite Food: Potatoes
Special Skill: Sewing
We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)
I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.
OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.
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What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j
Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.
Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).
Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????
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It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.
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And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.
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Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.
The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.
CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.
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Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.
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ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE
How uncool, Fellow-san...
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His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.
Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.
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If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:
First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...
bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.
Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.
The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.
I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.
Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.
Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.
AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.
Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).
LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.
And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!
In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~
AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART
The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.
Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.
I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL
OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL
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imagines4thefandoms · 3 months ago
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In Love with the Tats
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(This has been in my drafts for a long time)
Warning: Lots of smut
summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.
Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 
Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 
So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 
After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 
And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 
“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.
“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 
“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 
Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 
“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 
“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 
When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 
“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 
“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 
It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 
“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”
“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 
He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 
“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 
“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 
His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 
He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 
“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 
“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 
“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 
His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 
“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 
“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”
His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 
You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 
“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 
“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”
“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 
His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 
He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 
You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 
“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 
“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 
“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.
You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 
“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 
“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.
“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”
You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”
Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 
“Yes, Daddy please.”
He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 
“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 
“Please,” you whined. 
“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”
The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 
“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 
You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 
Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 
“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 
“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 
You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”
You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 
“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.
He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 
You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 
“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”
Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 
“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 
Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 
“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 
“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”
Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 
At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 
“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 
You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.
He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 
“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.
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mywritersmind · 3 months ago
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CAT PARENTS - LN4
pt.3
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summary : Part three!! Surprise surprise, Lando is in disbelief when Olivia shows up at his race! A weekend in Monaco is all it takes for the two to go from friends to blind idiots that are crushing on each other
OG SUMMARY (A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.)
listen up : at this point i’m writing a whole story so more parts will be coming!
word count : 2244
“You’re freaking out. Why?” Max asks me as I enter the Paddock.
My life has been crazy over the past three weeks. I’ve texted and called Lando non stop, Have interacted with all his friends, and am now some sort of F1 fan??
This all landed me right into his world, Max invited me. Not Lando. That’s why I'm freaking out because I'm surprising Lando and I don’t even know if he likes me but I really like him and I miss him even though we’ve literally met once.
“Surprises are nerve-wracking!” I frown at Max as he leads me through the crowds.
“Don’t worry! He will be excited. Trust me.” The way he says those last two words makes me feel more confident. I don’t know how much guys tell their friends about their relationship but I tell my girls everything. I’m hoping it’s close to the same.
I told Max I needed to wait until after the race, I don’t know what kind of preparation he does before and I don’t want to mess anything up.
Max hands me a glass of champagne once we’re in hospitality, “Breathe. Race is in five minutes.” He points down to the garages, “There’s your boy.” my heart beats faster when I see him. ‘Seeing him’ is an interesting phrase because I can only really see his helmet since he’s inside the car.
I relax a bit when Landos teammate's girlfriend joins us. Her name is Lily and even though she’s quiet, she’s incredibly funny and good at making me feel welcome.
Max and Lily help me understand a bit when a red flag happens, some drivers get lapped, the whole dirty air thing.
But before I know it, Lando is crossing the finish line, first.
“Oh my god!” I slap my hand over my mouth as Max grins at me.
“Ready to go see your lover boy?”
⋆。‧˚⋆
From where we left things, Lando and I had facetimed nearly every day, talking about anything and everything. Everytime I show Juan he looks like he’s about to cry and talks about how big she’s getting.
One night however, stuck with me the most.
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His texts were stupid and silly. But I can’t help but wonder why I was the one his mind went to.
Now I'm fiddling with my rings and walking down to the driver's area. Max said he’d have time before a bunch of interviews so I could sneak in quickly.
I knock on his door and when he opens it, I can’t help but smile. His hair is wet with champagne, his curls falling into his face and his suit half unzipped.
His blank stare turns into a wide grin in an instant, “You’re here!” He yells.
I grin, “You’re like sherlock.”
He shakes his head and pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I’m all gross right now.” He keeps his hands on my waist, “Where is Juna!?”
We talk for five minutes alone, he asks me a million questions and I congratulate him for the millionth time. “Come meet Oscar!” He grabs my hand, all giddy, and drags me to a hallway that’s taken up by three men.
Orange, Red, and Blue.
He introduces me to Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen. They all look far too interested in me for three rich and successful men.
“How’d you two meet?” Daniel asks, sipping on his water.
“He tried to steal my cat.” I say easily as Lando hits my arm playfully.
“I tried to help our cat!”
“Our?” Oscar raises a brow.
We tell them about Juna and our ridiculous night in. They’re all laughing at my joke about Lando being a great cat dad when another driver joins us.
“A female?” This one I know, Alex Albon is one of my favorites (especially because his girlfriend is iconic) When all the boys look at Lando the Williams driver laughs, “Woah- When did you get a girlfriend Lan?”
This makes Lando blush, “No she’s- Uh… This is Olivia!” He clarifies awkwardly as Alex looks thoroughly impressed that he embarrassed him before smiling at me and shaking my hand.
⋆。‧˚⋆
Lily is my saving grace tonight. Lando’s been busy all night, he keeps glancing at me from across the room and mouthing ‘i’m sorry’. But it’s honestly no worries because I’ve made a new best friend.
“Are you nervous?” She asks me, sipping on her cocktail in one of the drivers backyards.
I shrug, “A little? It’s weird- like I don’t know anyone but I know the whole world does.”
She laughs, nodding, “You’ll get used to it. Especially with Lando- not that you’re together or anything… but fame sort of follows.”
I hadn't even thought about that. I’ve seen the posts about him, the drama, and gossip that have been spread. I never realized that could be about me one day.
“I didn't mean to freak you out!” she says quickly.
“No! No, Don’t worry. I understand.” we fall into an easy conversation about work and how we’ve each ended up in our respective fields. Alex Albon interrupts us, placing his hand on Lily’s back and smiling.
“Lando is looking for you. Fair warning though… the boys are in interrogation mode.”
I should have listened to Alex’s warning more carefully because now I’m sat in a circle in front of a fire pit, being grilled.
“You seriously didn’t know Lando?” one asks.
“She’s american-”
“Actually her dad is a fan-” Lando tries to defend.
“Christ… of Alonso, not you.” someone laughs.
“Can we keep her?”
I laugh as Lando looks incredibly embarrassed, “She’s not a dog!”
“But I still like her!” It’s Carlos who’s arguing, “You know Alexandra would adore her- and we need someone to keep you in line.”
Charles nods along, “It’s true.”
“In line?” Lando scoffs, “I’m never out of line!”
Oscar raises a brow, “So we’re not gonna talk about that reporter you-”
“Okay!” Lando stops the conversation, “How about you lot have a normal conversation instead of interviewing Liv?”
Max Verstappen crosses his arms, looking pretty intimidating until his eyes light up, “Can I see your shared cat?” Now this is a topic I can talk about. I pull up photos of Juna and I yap about the silly things she’s done and clothes she’s ruined.
“So Lan… when are you getting her on Quadrant?” Max F smirks mischievously.
“She’s also not a guinea pig.” He says, leaning against my chair, “I’m so sorry.” He whispers to me.
“Don’t worry. It’s funny.”
“Can I ask you something, Olivia?” Max starts again and Lando immediately sits up.
“No.” he answers for me.
“What did you think about Lando’s drunk texting because let me tell you- I thought it was hilarious!” Lando’s best friend teases ruthlessly.
I’m trying not to laugh as Lando stands up, “I’m getting a drink!” When he walks past Max he pushes his head, messing up his hair.
I look at Max, “You’re torturing him.”
“He’s friends with you, He can handle it.” He just shrugs and while I try not to cling onto his words, I walk inside.
Lando’s back is turned to me, pouring some water.
I lean against the counter, “Looks like a fun way to celebrate a win.” I joke as he turns around quickly.
“I wanted to show you something after this- obeying the law and everything.” he shrugs. Take me somewhere? God he’s so mysterious yet it’s like I can see right through him.
I smile as he shyly looks down, “So the texts-”
“Lando, It’s fine.”
He shakes his head, his hand going to the back of his neck while his face bunches up, “No… I’m really sorry. I honestly had to delete them because I was so embarrassed. I never even drink that much!”
He’s rambling, his cheeks going pink when he notices I'm laughing, “Lan. It’s okay. Honestly it was funny.”
This seems to calm him, stepping closer and looking down at me, “I know that we’re not like best friends, or anything… but I did miss you.”
My heart skips a beat, meeting Lando’s icy eyes, “I…”
“Barbecue!” Daniel Riccardo screams as he enters the kitchen. We both spin around to see the man who slaps his arms back down to the side of his body, “Barbecue…?”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Lando and I are spending three days together in Monaco. Wow. Okay. This is happening. This is crazy! What am I even thinking!? I can’t just crash at this guy's place all week! Not to mention he payed for my ticket which was super embarrassing!
Lando insists that it’s fine and that it’ll be great, “Lily and Alex will be here too! Everyone else who lives here as well but you don’t want to hang out with all my friends so I can show you around!” His smile is so bright that I just nod at his words. He’s holding Juna in his arms, he convinced me to fly out with her just because he missed her.
Cat dad.
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Fuck!” I watch Lando fall into the harbor, slapping my hands over my mouth, I let out a muffled scream, “Lando!”
His head pops up with some sort of seaweed on him, He coughs once, climbs out of the water, and laughs, “That’s a first.” Is all he says before pulling his soaking shirt off.
I eye him, “Christ, we’re in public.” He eyes me right back, squeezing the water out with his arms… okay! “Are you okay?” I try to stop laughing but he looks like a wet puppy.
“I’m great!” He frowns, “Just got PUSHED in!” I scoff, clutching my necklace.
“I did no such thing!”
What truly happened was we were messing around, a little tipsy on the night air and how laughably terrible our day has been.
We had gotten turned away from three restaurants, We paid off the paparazzi, I fell on a bike and fucked up my knee, Juna got out and we almost died for a second…
This all led to multiple inside jokes and a feeling of being tied together through ridiculous trauma. When I pretended to push Lando in the water, he actually tripped and fell!
“We’re a mess.” He laughs as he runs his hand through my hair, “Well- I’m a mess!” He looks down at himself.
“Can't argue with that.” his mouth pulls into a smirk, “I think it’s time to go home.”
Lando sighs dramatically, “I think it’s time for ice cream.” He takes my hand in his, his cool skin warming me. He just pulls me in the other direction, I walk with him but my mind is on our intertwined hands.
He brings me to a little gelato place, orders in french and jokes with the owner as if he’s here 24/7.
“I didn’t know you speak french.” I say as we sit outside of the shop, licking my strawberry gelato off the spoon.
He laughs a bit, “I don’t. Just ice cream orders and casual greetings.” I smile at him, he’s in his own hoodie that he let me borrow before we went out. He felt horrible taking it from me but he was literally shivering with his wet shirt on.
I hum along to the song being played by a little band at a bar nearby, Lando smiles at me like he knows something.
“What?” I ask, feeling self conscious now.
He just shuts his mouth, mumbling, “Nothing…”
⋆。‧˚⋆
LANDO NORRIS
She’s beautiful.
Genuinely gorgeous.
I’ve never really felt like this before. I think women are pretty every day, but with Liv… She’s just so stunning that it hurts.
When I fell into the water, I was pissed, but then I got out and she was laughing. She’s got a good laugh, the kind you want to laugh with. So I did, and I haven’t taken my eyes off her since. The moonlight sparkles in her eyes as she looks at me, confused.
I want to kiss her so badly.
It would be perfect, we’re alone, the streets are quiet, that band is strumming a toon. But I can’t tell if she fancies me. She’s here and she’s happy but I’ve never been good at being friends with women.
I don’t want to ruin what we have right now. It’s early still and she has two more days here…
“Lando?” Her sweet voice makes me sit up straighter, “You look freezing.” Her hand slips to my face, her hands are warm and I see the alarm in her face when she feels my cold skin.
I let out a dry laugh, “I am.”
Her hand moves down my arm, to my hand, “Let’s go then. Juna is probably plotting her second escape.” She takes my hand as we stand, not meeting my eyes, and that right there, gives me the tiniest bit of hope.
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hitomisuzuya · 6 months ago
Note
Soft smut with Aventurine, I want to praise him, tell him how much I love him, and how he’s doing so well for me
I wasn’t sure if you were taking requests from Aventurine but then I saw what you just posted
If you don’t want to write this feel free to ignore!!
Anyways I love your writing so much and I’m glad you’ve picked up writing for Aven, now one of my favorite writers writes for by far my two favorite characters to read about :)
Aventurine x fem!reader. Soft smut. Cunnilingus. Praise. Pussy drunk! Aventurine. Aventurine cums from praise.
I am always taking requests for Aventurine. I want to spoil him with praise, so he cums from it. Spoiling him is the name of the game, isn't it? Thank you🥺❤️
It was Aventurine who seduced you into this position, using his silver tongue and teasing phrases that made you red faced and flustered. However, as his hand caressed your inner thigh, his eyes glinting satisfied hearing your shaky moan as he parted your folds with his tongue, you did something that softened the playful look in his eyes.
You'd reached down to stroke his hair. It was such a tender, and loving action. One that made that usual playful look melt into one of complete adoration. Adoration for you.
Aventurine sighed into your cunt, content as you ran your fingers through his hair again. A soft moan of pleasure escaped your parted lips, pleasure spiking through you as he lovingly kitten licked your clit. His eyes were trained on your every movement, ears keenly focused on your noises.
Between your thighs, he was looking up at you like you are the center of his whole world. Without you, he would have nothing left to grasp onto and cling to. It was hard for him to feel vulnerable, but you made him secure enough to show vulnerability.
And it was liberating for him.
Your back arched off the bed, your hips rolling up into his mouth as he latched his lips around your clit. The prodding and licking of his tongue sent your clit throbbing, louder noises of pleasure for Aventurine to feed off of keened from you.
"Y-You are doing so good for me," You stumbled over your words. And Aventurine loves when you do that. That told him he was really making you feel good.
He groaned into your cunt, his mouth leaving your clit. He flicked his tongue at your hole, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head feeling it clench around the tip of his tongue. He slowly lapped at your hole, moaning huskily as you pushed his face further onto your cunt.
Aventurine's fingers trembled as he held your thighs apart. Your body was starting to tremble in his hands, your legs shaking as you grinded against his mouth. "Good boy, Aventurine. Your tongue feels so good," Hearing more of your praise made his tongue feel more ravenous.
His cock pulsed hard between his legs, muffling the sweetest whimper into your cunt as he rutted into the mattress. He knew you were eager to please him too, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. He was soaking up your words of praise, lapping and sucking, starved.
"Please," Aventurine groaned, swirling his tongue around your clit as he held your cunt against his mouth, determined to soak the taste of you on his tongue. "I need to hear it," With every fiber of his being.
He couldn't even be embarrassed about already being so close to cumming just from hearing your praise. But he couldn't get enough of it. He knew it wouldn't take the much to push him over the edge.
"I-I--" Pleasure quaked so strongly through you that you stumbled over your words again. Aventurine vibrated a moan of anticipation on your clit. "I love you, Aventurine I love you so much!"
He moaned like he had just heard the one thing he'd been waiting to hear all his life.
"Good boy, good boy," Your words keened another whimper from Aventurine. "I'm so close, please don't stop!" You were writhing on the bed, your fingers urgently tugging on his soft hair.
Your pleas, utter praise, and chants of good boy finally pushed him over the edge. His body shook as cum soaked his pants. He rode out his orgasm by further tasting you. His tongue was frenzied on your clit.
He was determined to be worthy of soaking up and basking in your praise. And the way you looked at him, your body trembling in the wake of your orgasm told him that he deserves it.
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Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV
Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys
Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy
Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.
Word Count: 6.3K
Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics
A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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January 24, 1919
The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.
Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.
That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.
You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.
You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.
But you always wondered…
When would it be okay?
You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.
You were alone, different, cursed.
The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.
Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.
If you even met him.
No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?
Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.
Because it was impossible.
You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.
You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.
You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.
And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.
When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.
It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.
Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.
Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.
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One Year Ago
You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.
It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.
But today something was different.
Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.
Haircut? No that's not it.
You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.
Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.
Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.
Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.
Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.
You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 
And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.
You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.
Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.
It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.
You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.
No time to toast it.
You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.
"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.
She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.
And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.
"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.
"Tea later?"
"Mhmm."
"Get some earl gray macaroons!"
You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.
Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.
You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.
Shit.
The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.
You felt free.
You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.
There goes my breakfast.
You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.
But that moment seems to last a lifetime.
He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.
As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.
The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.
You'd never felt any of this before.
The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.
He has to…
But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.
"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.
What the hell just happened?
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The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.
You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.
When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.
It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.
But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…
Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.
Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-
He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.
You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.
Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.
Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.
But why him?
You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.
Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?
Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.
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One Year Later: Present Day
You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.
Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.
Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.
And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.
You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.
And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.
But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.
Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.
Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.
You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.
As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.
It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.
You'd understood that.
Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.
It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.
And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.
But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.
You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.
You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.
As if you knew what that meant.
It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?
How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?
It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.
You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.
She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.
You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.
And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.
The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.
You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.
It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.
It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.
You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.
You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.
You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.
Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.
Guess I'm going a little more casual today.
On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.
You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.
Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"
"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.
The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.
Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.
"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself
"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.
"Well-"
"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."
"But-"
Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.
20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.
"Thanks Annie."
"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"
By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.
"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.
"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.
"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.
"Sorry."
"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."
"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"
"Yep."
"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.
"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"
"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.
"Perfect."
The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.
Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.
"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.
"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.
"Who?"
"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.
"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.
"He's just kind of rough-"
"Rough?"
"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."
"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"
Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.
"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."
"Oh."
Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.
"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.
It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.
"Thanks babe."
"What are friends for?"
She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.
That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.
It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.
Maybe that's why he didn't want me.
Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.
The familiar question rises in your head again:
When will it be okay?
Probably never.
You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.
A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.
As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.
The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.
You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.
He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.
All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.
Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.
The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.
You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.
"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.
And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.
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A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)
Taglist:
@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573
@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester
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ldrfanatic · 6 months ago
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one last souvenir from my trip to your shores
thank you so much for 800 followers!!!
here’s a little summer in Italy with theo (from theo’s perspective)
06.04.2024
song title is from the manuscript but I promise this is a happy fic
works slytherin boys
wc - 1.1k
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theo nott was decidedly the happiest 16-year old boy in all of europe right now. hell, maybe in all of the world. here he was, on a pebbly italian beach, sun warming his skin, and his beautiful girlfriend curled up on the beach chair next to him.
he felt his heart begin to swell as he watched the scene in front of him. you’d laid between his legs, your head rested against his abdomen and your soft hair tickling his skin. you were reading some muggle romance novel. he didn’t know the name of it, but he knew it was your favorite.
your new medusa charm sunglasses were perched on top of your forehead. you’d shoved them up there maybe 15 or so minutes ago with a complaint that they made it difficult to read.
the versace glasses had been a gift from theo.
in fact, despite your avid protests, he was very insistent on buying you a whole new summer wardrobe for the trip. theo smiled to himself as he thought on the weeks ahead. after many pleas from you, and heaps of charm from theo, your parents had begrudgingly allowed you to spend half the summer break with theo in italy.
the two of you were staying in the nott family’s summer home there. when he was younger, theo used to visit every summer, but he hadn’t been back since his mother passed. the cliffside home sat empty for so long that the two of you had to scourgify layers of dust off of every surface.
it was going on your second week of a blissful vacation. only one week into a six week trip, theo couldn’t help but feel giddy, even if he’d never admit it out loud.
“bellissima,”
you held one finger in his direction, an indication for him to hold his piece for a moment. theo felt amusement curl along his lips into a smile.
after a short (agonizing) eternity, you closed the book around your index finger and tilted your head backwards until your eyes met his, your head now completely resting on his stomach.
as your eyes found his, theo felt his mouth go dry. butterflies knocked around in his stomach threatening to crawl up his throat at any given moment. no matter how much time he spent with you, you still turned him into a blushing boy with only a look. it should be a punishable offense to be so beautiful and so very sweet.
theo wasn’t sure how he managed to land a literal angel from heaven itself but he knew one thing for sure: he was never letting you go.
pulling himself from his blissful thoughts, theo allowed a large hand to snake down until his palm rested against the softness of your stomach.
“affamato?”
over the course of your relationship, you’d picked up a few words and phrases from theo. when he so often spoke in his mother tongue, it was kind of unavoidable. theo rubbed his hand in smooth small circles. the content smile that graced your lips made theo’s insides feel like they were on the wrong side of gravity.
“i could eat.”
but neither of you moved. finally, you placed the small love note you’d been using as a bookmark in between the pages and closed your novel. then you turned over onto your stomach so as to look at your boyfriend properly.
theo’s arms snaked around you instinctively, pulling you impossibly closer to him. he tried not to look at your the tops of your soft breasts which were now pressed so much against him that they started to spill from the confines of your bathing suit. he may be your boyfriend, but he was also a gentleman. his mammina had taught him to always be a gentleman and always take really really good care of his women.
despite his best attempts, theo felt his eyes water involuntarily. the moment he saw you, he knew you would be his bride. he felt very strongly that you were sent to him by his mother. a parting gift.
the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of your smile. they felt like hugs and kisses from her. when he first met you, theo felt something. a feeling that had left with his mother’s last breath, and had yet to return. until you came along.
“let’s get you food, bambina.”
you didn’t question his teary appearance. you always understood him without a single syllable from his lips and this time was no different.
you packed all of your belongings back into your marc jacobs tote bag (another gift from theo) and picked up your sandal. when you turned to him, hair blowing in the beach breeze, and free hand outstretched to him, theo felt his heart tightening once again.
“i’ll be along soon. there’s something i have to do first.”
with a soft nod of your head, you took off on the path back to the chateau. theo watched you leave, waiting until you were safely inside the house before turning back to the waves. he didn’t smile, or move much at all. he just watched the waves crash and allowed his senses to be overwhelmed with the sweetness of the tyrrhenian sea. his mother’s favorite place on earth. the last place he saw her smile.
theo took a deep breath and allowed the words to flow naturally from his lips. he didn’t fight them or his emotions. he just spoke.
“mamma, i can feel your presence surrounding me. your spirit lives on in every beat of my heart and every breath i take. i want to thank you, mamma, for everything you've given me – for your love, your guidance, and your unwavering support. she's a gift, mammina, a true blessing, and i can't help but believe that you had a hand in bringing her into my life. her laughter echoes yours, and her kindness reflects the warmth of your embrace. thank you for sending her to me. i promise to cherish her, mamma. i miss you so much and one day, we'll be reunited. until then, i carry your love in my heart, knowing that you're always watching over me.”
theo took in another deep breath, the air suddenly feeling tight in his throat. “grazie, mamma, for everything. ti amo, e ci vediamo tra un paio di decenni.”
-
(i love you, and i’ll see you in a couple of decades)
theo taglist
@moonlightreader649 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess @nighttimemoonlover
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dedalvs · 4 months ago
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Translation request: "I hate the ocean, all my enemies are across it" in Zhyler. Like the meme of the cat saying "I hate my puter, all my enemies are inside it"
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You're really going to make me pull out not just one of my old languages, but my language that had 57 "cases", and then make me translate something that specifically uses a meaning I don't have a case for? And also requires a verb I don't have? (Everyone knows Zhyler has the verb astal which means "to love and hate" but no verb for "to hate".) Have I been made the object of a troll?
You better actually want this. This better be a damn tattoo.
First, you I had to, of course, create a word for "to hate", which meant having to relearn my stupid alphabetization system, since I alphabetized by the Zhyler orthography, not the romanization. Rather than go with something I felt in my bones I went with something that I knew I could alphabetize correctly, so zirel is the word for "to hate". I think it works, because I hate it.
So zir is "hate". Might as well add a -jÿr on the end to make it intensive (ÿ is [ɯ]). A first person subject makes that zirjÿrum, which, good gravy, if you know that this language is supposed to be a vowel harmony language and that is the result… What a disaster.
Now we need the ocean. Also, how dare you make me translate this. I LOVE the ocean! It's one of my most favorite things in the entire world! You miscreant! You villain! But that comes later.
There are two words for "ocean". One is ishþe which is just a place of water, but it seems like the word needed is naredðe, which is the great blue-green, the gathering of all waters.
The whole sentence, then, is Naredðer zirjÿrum. Now for the other.
The word for "enemy" is vedga. The word for "all" is las. Both of them will need to be plural, but, mercifully, nominative, so I don't have to remember what the adjectival cases are. Thus "all enemies is " laslar vedgalar. Then "my" is laslar vedgalarum. That's "all my enemies".
In locational phrases no verb is needed, which is nice. There isn't a single third person pronoun. Instead, the source of the noun class suffix is used as a third person pronoun. For Class XI (the class of naredðe), the pronoun is ða.
Now for the case, you are correct: I did not specifically create a case for "across" in this sense (the "beyond" sense). The one I would probably uses is the postessive case, which I think is supposed to mean "behind". In other words, all your enemies are behind the ocean. I believe the form is ðamej. And so, the full translation is:
Naredðer zirjÿrum. Laslar vedgalarum ðamej.
But didn't you mean "all my friends"...? Seems like the ocean is keeping your enemies away so you should be grateful for it. If you wanted to do that it'd be:
Naredðer zirjÿrum. Laslar širkÿlarum ðamej.
Either way, here's what it would look like in the orthography, which was redesigned by my cousin Claire Ng. My original font was garbage. This one is lovely. I had originally planned to redesign Zhyler and use it for the board game I'm creating (Sovála) featuring kingdoms of darling little animals battling each other. It was going to be the language for the cats. In fact, though, redesigning Zhyler is what led me to decide to create new languages. I got to the noun classes and realized the first one was for humans, and then there were several others for different sizes of animals, and this just didn't make sense at all for anthropomorphic cats in a world without humans. Thus, indirectly, it led to the creation of LangTime Studio (streaming in half an hour!).
All right, here you go. All my enemies:
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And all my friends:
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Now I banish you!
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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months ago
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solace-2* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)
summary: part 2 to this (tq for 1k notes!)
words: 5.2k+
warnings: fluff- so much of it. smut. p in v sex, sex in different positions, creampie, kissing, dirty talk.
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Harry didn't reveal the full truth about the Italian coordinates tattooed on his hip. Instead, he simply smiled and changed the subject whenever Y/N tried to probe further about their meaning.
Y/N tried to shake off her nagging doubts about it too, but the sight of those precise geographic coordinates seemed to bore into her mind. She knew her boyfriend too well - he never did anything without intention or deeper meaning.
Over the next few days, she found herself scouring Harry's personal effects any time he left the room, searching for any other clues about what he could be hiding. Paranoid or not, she had to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Harry's laptop was password protected, as were his phones and tablets. Y/N briefly felt a pang of guilt going through his devices behind his back like this, but the need to uncover the truth overrode her hesitation. She tried every important date, nickname, and phrase she could think of based on their years together, but nothing seemed to crack his codes.
In his planner and calendar apps, she found no unusual appointments or Travel arrangements corresponding to those Italian coordinates. Harry's work schedule was booked solid for the next few months with the usual recording sessions, interviews, and meet-and-greets.
Rifling through his desk drawers, closets, and travel bags yielded no other obvious clues either. Just the typical miscellany of everyday life - old ticket stubs, charging cables, a modest collection of simple jewelry he favored.  
The more Y/N searched fruitlessly for answers, the more unsettled she became. Just what kind of explosive secret could Harry be keeping from her, going to such lengths to conceal it?
Harry, for his part, seemed to be going out of his way to be extra attentive and loving towards Y/N over those days. Bouquets of her favorite flowers in full bloom arrived for no reason. He suggested romantic home-cooked meals filled with all her most beloved comfort foods. At night, he initiated lovemaking with an almost frantic passion, settling between her thighs and worshipping every inch of her body like a man desperate and touch-starved.
"You know you're everything to me, don't you,dove?" He would pant against her sweat-slicked skin, emerald eyes burning with an intensity that simultaneously set her ablaze and lodged a kernel of anxiety in her chest. "You're my whole bloody world and then some."
It was like he could sense her pulling away on some subconscious level and was determined to overwhelm her with affection and reminders of their connection, reeling her back in before she could drift any farther. The more Y/N felt herself falling under the intoxicating spell of Harry's doting lover persona, the more unshakeable her doubts became.
What was he fighting so hard to distract her from? And more importantly, could their relationship withstand whatever seismic truth he was keeping from her?
***
A week later, Harry said he had an important audition for a new movie role. He needed to fly to Milan for a few days. As Harry packed his bag, Y/N felt that gnawing doubt and curiosity come back.
The moment Harry left for the airport, Y/N opened her laptop. She searched for the coordinates from his tattoo. The coordinates pointed to a small town called Bappino near Florence in the heart of Tuscany's wine country. More specifically, they pinpointed a large villa estate surrounded by vineyards and olive groves.
Y/N stared at the beautiful scenery on her screen. Her mind was spinning. Could this Italian villa be what Harry inherited from his family, like he had started hinting before changing the subject? If so, why all the secrecy and obvious desire to surprise her?
Y/N's thoughts kept circling as the days went by with no word from Harry about when he would return from his "audition" in Milan. She tried not to read too much into his silence, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something big was happening behind the scenes.
Five days after Harry left, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night. Her sheets were tangled and her chest felt tight. In the quiet flat, she could no longer ignore the persistent urge to take action and find out the truth about that location.
It was impulsive, maybe even crazy, but Y/N made up her mind. If Harry was truly keeping a surprise about this Italian villa from her, then she was going to travel there herself and uncover the truth firsthand. No more waiting in suspense for him to tell her.
Within a few hours, Y/N had booked a flight to Florence and packed a small bag. She didn't bother leaving Harry a note about her spontaneous trip. After all his secrecy, he didn't deserve that courtesy right now.
The long flight passed in a blur of nervous anticipation and fitful napping. As Y/N's plane began descending towards the rural airstrip near the villa's coordinates, her heart pounded in her throat.
What if she was flying all this way just to satisfy her own fanciful assumptions, only to find some reasonable explanation? Or worse, what if Harry's surprise was something she hadn't braced herself for at all?
The small rental car agency in the village center of Bappino was empty when Y/N's taxi dropped her off. Within twenty minutes, she had the keys to a sleek black Fiat.
Y/N checked the GPS for the coordinates to the villa. The dusty backroads leading into the hills were quiet. Cypress trees and grapevine trellises lined the roads. Y/N watched out the window, trying to stay calm. She was used to the noise and crowds of London, not this peaceful scenery.
When the villa's gates finally appeared around the next bend, Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe. The estate was even more beautiful than the photos - with terracotta roofs, ivy-covered walls, and elegant arches. It looked like a Renaissance painting.
Y/N pulled up to the tall iron gates feeling nervous. Her hands shook on the steering wheel. What if this villa was the surprise Harry had been keeping secret? How could she just show up unannounced?
Just then, an older woman in a flower-print dress came out of a side door. She squinted at Y/N's idling car, like she was expecting someone.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N got out and approached the gates on shaky legs. Up close, the woman seemed friendly despite her stern look. She smiled warmly and used an old key to let Y/N inside.
"Welcome, miss!" the woman said in English with an accent. "We've been awaiting you. Welcome to Villa Arca del Cielo."
Y/N blinked in surprise at the warm welcome. "There must be some mistake," she stammered. "I'm actually more of a...surprise visitor myself."
The woman studied Y/N carefully for a moment before nodding.
"Of course, of course," she replied pleasantly. "We've prepared everything for your arrival. Leave your car and follow me, dear."
Though still utterly confused, Y/N did as she was told. The woman led her through stunning gardens filled with bright blooms and cozy benches along the winding paths.
Eventually they reached a spacious courtyard centered around a bubbling stone fountain. Y/N's breath caught when she spotted the man lounging casually on the fountain's edge.
"Harry?" she gasped before thinking.
He looked like a living Renaissance statue - handsome in linen and tailored clothes. Harry's green eyes found Y/N's, shining with some unreadable emotion.
"Why hello there, darling," he purred in that deep, velvety voice she loved. Rising smoothly to his feet, his lopsided smirk made butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Fancy meeting you here of all places."
Y/N opened and closed her mouth, a million questions spinning in her mind. But before she could speak, Harry was crossing the courtyard towards her. In one fluid motion, he dropped down on one knee and pulled out a small black box...
Y/N felt like her heart stopped as Harry opened the little black box. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen. 
"Harry...what are you doing?" she gasped, barely able to speak.
Harry looked up at her with those bright green eyes and gave her that lopsided smile that always made her knees weak.
"I'm doing something I should have done ages ago, my love," he said in that deep, rumbly voice. "I'm asking you to marry me. Will you be my wife?"
Y/N's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she let out a shocked little cry. She couldn't believe this was happening! She thought for sure Harry must be hiding some huge secret. But instead, he had planned this incredibly romantic surprise proposal!
"You...you want to marry me?" Y/N finally managed to say. "Here at this incredible place?"
Harry's smile stretched even wider across his handsome face. He gave a small chuckle and shook his head happily.
"Yes, darling. More than anything, I want you to be my wife," he said sincerely. "And what better place than my family's historic villa? This estate has been passed down for generations upon generations."
He swept his free hand out, gesturing to the beautiful terracotta buildings, lush gardens, and rolling vineyards all around them.
"When I received word that I had inherited the villa, I knew immediately this was where I wanted us to start our lives together. This place is filled with so much love and tradition. The perfect fresh start for our new adventure."
Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she stared down at the man she adored. She felt silly for doubting him, even for a moment. His pure heart and romantic spirit shone through in this amazingly thoughtful proposal.
"So what do you say, my love?" Harry gave the ring box a little shake with a wink. "Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? We can build our happily ever after together right here in this paradise."
A joyful giggle burst out of Y/N's chest. She launched herself at Harry, sending them both tumbling onto the soft grass in a tangle of limbs. She peppered his face with kisses, cradling it in her hands.
"Yes! Yes, a million times yes!" she exclaimed between delighted laughs. "I can't think of anything I want more than to be your wife!"
Suddenly a cheer went up around them. Y/N looked up in surprise to see the courtyard was now filled with a small crowd of smiling people - couples, families with children, and elderly folks. These must be Harry's relatives from nearby, brought in to secretly witness this magical proposal.
Harry easily regained his feet, pulling Y/N up into his strong embrace. He slid the dazzling diamond onto her trembling finger as the crowd burst into applause again. Someone popped open a bottle of crisp white wine from the villa's own vineyards and began passing out glasses.
As the well-wishers surged forward to hug and congratulate the beaming couple, Y/N pressed herself against Harry's side. She gazed up at her new fiancé with eyes shining with love and happy tears.
"You brilliant, wonderful, maddening man," she said through her megawatt smile. "You really had me going there for a while with all your secretive ways!"
Harry's deep laugh rumbled against her cheek as he kissed the top of her head. "What can I say? I do love a good dramatic surprise," he drawled unrepentantly. "But I promise, from here on out, no more secrets between us. Just you and me, partners for life, building our forever in this little slice of paradise."
Y/N felt her heart swell to overflowing with love and joy as Harry pulled her close to sway among their joyfully celebrating new family. Whatever surprises the future still held, she knew they would face them side-by-side, heart-to-heart. This enchanting Tuscan villa was now their eternal home - an oasis of beauty, heritage, and boundless devotion between two soulmates. And really, what more could anyone want than that?
***
It was Harry's big wedding day and he was super nervous. He was getting ready in one of the fancy rooms at the beautiful Italian villa where the wedding was happening.
"I can't bloody well do this," Harry groaned, struggling with his bowtie. "What was I thinking, putting all this together?"
His best friend Niall gave him a look through the mirror they were standing in front of. "Don't start getting cold feet on me now, mate. You've been dreaming of this day forever!"
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It was the morning of his wedding to the love of his life, Y/N. After he surprised her with his proposal a few months ago at his family's villa in Italy, they quickly started planning an intimate but fancy ceremony right there in the villa's pretty gardens.
Now as Harry stood there in his perfect tuxedo, he felt really anxious bubbling up inside. What if something went wrong? What if he messed up his vows or the weather turned bad suddenly?
"It's not the marriage part that's scaring me," he tried to explain to Niall, sitting down on the old couch. "I've never been more sure of anything than wanting Y/N as my wife. It's all this..." He waved his hand around at the luxurious room.
"This huge romantic, over-the-top destination wedding at a historic Italian villa. With all the family flying in from everywhere and the crazy timing to coordinate, it all feels a bit...overwhelming."
Niall raised an eyebrow at his lifelong friend. "And whose genius idea was it to have your wedding at this place again?" he said flatly.
Harry smiled a little, knowing Niall was right. He'd admitted before that he could be quite dramatic, especially when it came to being romantic with Y/N. But part of him worried that Y/N might think this whole destination wedding was too much or too showy.
"I just want everything to be perfectly perfect today, you know?" he sighed, running his hands through his styled hair. "Especially for her. Y/N deserves to have the most magical dream wedding after everything we've been through."
Just then, the door burst open and Harry's sister Gemma came in, looking beautiful in her robe with her hair and makeup done. She gave Harry a look, hands on her hips.
"There you are, worrying over nothing as usual!" Gemma fussed, pulling Harry's fidgeting hands away from his hair. "Honestly, H, with all this huge production you've planned, someone would have to be crazy to doubt how much you adore that girl."
Harry felt himself relax a little at his sister's gentle teasing. Gemma always knew how to put things simply and lovingly. He made a face at Niall, who snorted with amusement.
"Alright, alright, you've made your point, Gem," he said with a little laugh, kissing her cheek. "I'm just going to take a few minutes to myself to get centered, yeah?"
Gemma nodded briskly and shooed Niall out so Harry could have some privacy. Her warm eyes shone with real affection as she gave Harry's arm a reassuring squeeze.
"We both know today is going to be one for the books, love. Just focus on that feeling of pure joy when you see your bride walking down the aisle and everything else will fall into place. I believe in you."
Then Harry was blessedly alone with his whirling thoughts. He went over to the windows, breathing in the fresh spring air from Tuscany while trying to focus his energy. Gemma was right - none of the little details mattered in the big picture. The only important thing was honoring his everlasting love for the extraordinary woman he loved more than life itself.
Straightening up with renewed determination, Harry glanced at his reflection one last time before heading out to take his place. He was about to marry his soulmate in the place they would start their new life together, surrounded by their most cherished people. What could possibly be more magical than that?
Y/N could barely breathe when she saw the breathtaking wonderland that had been created for her wedding in the villa's garden. What was once a normal pretty garden had been totally transformed into something from a fairytale.
Everywhere she looked, there were vibrant splashes of jewel-toned flowers beautifully arranged into lush garlands, bouquets, or delicate sprigs woven into the soaring archway where she and Harry would exchange vows. The warm evening air was filled with the mingled sweet fragrances of peonies, roses, freesia, and sweet pea blossoms that drifted on each gentle breeze.
Overhead, thousands of twinkling lights were suspended amongst gauzy fabric and greenery stretched across the entire garden. As the golden Tuscan sunset faded into dusk, the effect was like being surrounded by a shimmering canopy of fairy lights and stars.
"Y/N, sweetheart, are you ready?"
The familiar gentle voice of her mother came through Y/N's dreamy haze and she turned, fresh tears pricking her eyes. Her mum looked impossibly elegant in her sleek champagne gown, eyes shining with barely contained emotion as she took in her only daughter.
"Oh Mum..." Y/N choked out, feeling a rush of euphoria and disbelief that this day had finally arrived. "I don't think I'll ever be ready enough for the honor of marrying someone like Harry."
Moving carefully so as not to disturb the delicate lace and tulle of her wedding dress, Y/N hugged her mother tightly and allowed herself a quiet moment to simply bask in the surreal joy. She had spent years picturing this day in her mind, imagining every possible detail down to her shoes and makeup. Yet now that it was really happening, she felt even more awestruck and humbled.
A gentle knock came and Y/N's dad was there, looking so handsome and proud in his suit. He cleared his throat roughly, but his watery smile gave away how sentimental he felt.
"Sorry to interrupt, but...it's just about time, petal." His warm fatherly gaze took in every inch of her bridal look - from the shimmering crystal-embellished bodice to the delicate beaded sleeves and sweeping skirt fanning out around her. "You look...well, I've never seen anything more beautiful in all my life."
Y/N hastily wiped beneath her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. Not that it truly mattered, of course. She would happily embrace any imperfections if it meant getting to marry her other half at last.
"Shall we, then?" she managed to say, linking her arms through her parents' and falling into step with them.
The walk down the villa's arched galleries leading to the main gardens felt both endless yet over in a blink. Y/N focused on drawing deep, calming breaths as she absorbed every sublime detail - the glow of the ornate lanterns, heady jasmine fragrance, and cheerful chirping of crickets.
Finally, she rounded the last archway and her gaze was instantly drawn to the man she had chosen to walk life's path alongside from this day forward.
Harry.
He was standing beneath the towering archway covered in flowers, hands clasped loosely in front of him, full of nervous energy. For a single heartbeat, their eyes met and locked - shimmering forest green and sparkling hazel exchanging entire paragraphs of adoration, promise, and reverence in one penetrating look.
In that crystalline moment when their eyes met, everything else fell away. The decorations, the assembled guests watching, even the balmy Tuscan evening - it all faded. All that existed was Harry's reverent, loving gaze drinking her in like she was the most precious gift he'd ever received. A look that spoke straight to Y/N's soul, whispering 'you are my forever' without a single word.
As she glided down the petal-strewn aisle on her fathers' arms, Y/N took in every delicious detail of how heart-stoppingly handsome her groom looked. His polished boots shone, his tuxedo hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. The subtle patterns of his trousers and ivory vest added a dapper touch.
But it was Harry's soft, glowing expression that made Y/N weak - those bright green eyes sparkling with happy tears, pink lips curved in a radiant smile, cherub curls framing his chiseled jaw. In that moment, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
Y/N barely registered her parents passing her to Harry's waiting hands under the arch, or the hushed scrape of the officiant clearing their throat to begin the ceremony. She and Harry simply stood transfixed, holding each other's gazes as the familiar words of the marriage rite washed over them.
Harry was the first to break the reverent trance when it was time for them to exchange their vows. He took a deep, steadying breath and squeezed Y/N's hands in his large, ring-warmed grasp.
"My darling Y/N, I knew from the very first moment you walked into that massage room that you were someone really special, sent just for me. Do you remember how nervous and shy I got just looking at your beautiful face? I tried acting all cool and confident like I usually do, but you saw right through that act." He gave a little laugh. 
"You looked me straight in the eyes and said 'Cut it out mister, just be yourself. That's what I want to get to know.' And that moment changed everything for me. As your strong but gentle hands started rubbing out my muscle knots, it was like you were untying the knots around my heart too. You made me feel free just to be my real, imperfect self with you, no need to pretend."
Harry took a deep breath. "Our life together hasn't been perfect, babe. We've been through a lot of hard stuff that nobody should have to deal with. But through it all, you've been my one constant. My guiding light when I'm lost, my warmth and sunshine after the darkest days."  
Tears shone in his eyes. "You are my true home and safe place, Y/N. Where I can always find love, laughter, and acceptance, no matter how beat up I am. Choosing to spend forever with your beautiful spirit is the greatest gift I could ever get."
He squeezed her hands tightly. "So on our wedding day, surrounded by everyone we love most, I vow to cherish you, my endlessly patient and loving wife, through every happiness and struggle life brings. I'll always be your safe harbor to come back to. This is my sacred promise to you, my soulmate."
Y/N had to blink back happy tears as she squeezed Harry's hands. "My dearest Harry, my whole life changed that day you walked into my massage room too. You came in acting all charming and cocky with your messy curls and those gorgeous green bedroom eyes." She grinned at him.  
"But I could see right away I wanted to know the real you, not just some act. And that's when you truly captivated me - by wearing your heart wide open and feeling every emotion so deeply. Your childlike wonder at small joys, your kindness to all living things, your ability to empathize...that's when I knew you were someone who could break through all my walls."
Her chest felt ready to burst with love as she gazed at him. "This man standing before me is the rarest gem. You're boundlessly talented and creative, yes, but also so humble - using your art to uplift people and shine light into the darkness. Over the years you've uncovered the most beautiful soul, and I'm so honored to nurture that forever."
Y/N took a shuddering breath. "You are my safe haven too, my love. The place where I can let all my vulnerabilities show without fear, knowing you'll protect my fragile pieces as fiercely as I protect yours."
She raised their joined hands and kissed his knuckles gently. "So here, in our new beginning place, I vow to spend the rest of my days delighting in your spirit's brilliance. I'll nurture and endlessly celebrate your exquisite soul. Walking peacefully beside you is the greatest privilege imaginable. I'll make sure you never forget that."
***
His mouth was crashing over hers in a searing, all-consuming kiss that brooked no argument. Y/N melted into the hard planes of his body with a shameless moan, all thoughts of their reception and revelling guests evaporating like rain on desert sands.
They barely made it to the longue before articles of clothing began puddling at their feet in reckless abandon. All that existed for Harry and Y/N in that breathless, eternity was finally, surrendering to the long-anticipated unionn they had fought for.  
"Tell me what you want, love," Harry husked into the heated space between their mouths. "Want to give you everything."
Y/N whimpered at the gravel of her husband's voice, dragging him down into another searing kiss. She licked fervently into his mouth, savoring the smoky, masculine taste that was purely Harry. She craved him.
Harry growled in approval, palming Y/N's breasts roughly before giving the peaked buds a sharp pinch. She cried out, arching into his touch as liquid fire lanced straight to her core. Not to be outdone, Y/N rolled them with surprising strength until she was straddling Harry's muscled thighs.
His gaze followed the path of her hands as she slowly, teasingly trailed them down the sculpted ridges of her own torso. Y/N threw her head back with a breath when her fingertips grazed the slick, throbbing bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.
"Jesus..." Harry bit out, hips punching up instinctively when Y/N began working herself in tight, frantic circles right in front of him. "You're so bloody gorgeous, darling. Don't know how I got so lucky."
Y/N hummed breathlessly, catching Harry's stare as she continued touching herself shamelessly in clear view. Her other hand drifted lower to wrap around his thick, achingly hard length. She gave him a few firm strokes, smearing around the pearly bead of moisture leaking from his tip.
"Want you inside me," she rasped without preamble. "Need to feel you stretch me wide open, baby."
A low, guttural sound tore from Harry's chest as he instantly surged up into a seated position, cupping Y/N's bum and grinding against her slick entrance. She keened at the prod of him nudging insistently between her folds.
"Yeah?" he husked against the swell of her breasts. "You want this thick cock filling you up, love? Fucking you raw until you're sobbing my name?"
"Yes!" Y/N hissed out on a broken moan, rising up on her knees until just the bulbous tip of him caught on her soaked entrance. "Now Harry, oh my god, please!"
Harry snarled something incoherent before crushing their mouths together in another all-consuming. He swallowed Y/N's shrill cry as he abruptly surged up in one slick, powerful glide - burying every thick, throbbing inch inside her with a lewd grunt.
"Fuck YES!" Y/N sobbed out, throwing her head back as her inner walls fluttered wildly around the stretch and burn. "Oh god, just like that..."
"Bloody fucking perfect," Harry gritted through clenched teeth as Y/N rolled and clenched around him experimentally. "Grip me so damn tight, sweetheart."
Both spurred into a frenzy, they instantly launched into a rapid, frantic grind atop the rumpled sheets. Y/N rose up and dropped back down with shameless abandon, chasing the euphoric drag of Harry's girth splitting her open over and over. Her nails left crescent-shaped indents across the muscles of his straining shoulders and back.
"Yes, yes!" she chanted breathlessly, meeting Harry's brutal upward snaps with her own. "That's it, baby, fuck me just like that!"
"Jesus, the noises you make," Harry gritted out, his large hands flexing around Y/N's hips hard enough to bruise as he guided their filthy rhythm. "So fucking sexy, love. Gonna come just from hearing you."
Y/N keened in delight at his ragged words. She somehow managed to yank him even closer, savoring the rigid press of his abdomen rubbing against her swollen, aching clit with each punishing grind. Her breasts bounced with the feverish motion, nipples pebbled and aching for her husband's mouth.
Seemingly reading her mind, Harry latched on with a snarl, laving and sucking at the tender peaks with focused intensity. The pleasure arrowing straight to Y/N's center had her throwing her head back on a broken wail.
"Oh shit, shit yes!" she babbled frantically, legs beginning to shake and tremble. "Right there, Harry, fuuuuuck don't stop!"
Lewd sounds of flesh on flesh echoed throught the room, paired with their moans and grunts as they made noises freely. They didn’t care about their guests listening to them, because, well, they owned this place.
"Stay right there," Harry suddenly grunted through clenched teeth, halting Y/N with a bone-crushing grip on her hips. He then snapped his hips up once, twice, burying himself to the hilt on each brutal thrust.
Y/N screamed as she finally came around him, every muscle seizing up in pure bliss. Her back contorted sharply as shockwave after shockwave of pure bliss blitzed through her nerve-endings. She could barely draw breath, completely shattered by the force of her release as it gushed hotly around Harry's relentless possession of her core.
"Oh FUCK," Harry roared out, head tossed back as Y/N's clenching finally dragged him over that edge as well. His whole body strained, tendons in his neck and arms flexing as he erupted torrentially inside Y/N with a long, drawn out moan.
They clung to each other throughout their shared ecstasy, trapped in an endless cycle of crashing between blinding highs and soft lows.. Harry's mouth was persistent, soothing across Y/N's damp hairline and temples once coherent thought became possible again.  
Finally, when the last ripples had faded away, he gently manoeuvred them onto their sides without separating their bodies. His now-lax biceps flexed around Y/N's hips, pulling her even closer so he could nuzzle fervent kisses beneath her jaw.
"You're everything," he murmured in a voice gone coarse and raspy from their cries. "My whole fucking universe, you understand me?"
Y/N shivered at his words, craning her neck to slot her mouth over his in a deep, intoxicating kiss. She matched his confession with one of her own without breaking the languid back-and-forth of their kiss.
"Forever, baby. You and me forever."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! and also if part 2 lived up to the expectations lol.
please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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chlmtsdoll · 2 months ago
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i need some dad art moments from u !!! 🩷
Yes yes yes. I don’t want kids so writing out the fantasies in my fics helps the girl instincts pass iykyk. 😉
Fluff | Dilf Art | he’s a soft parenting kinda guy so here <3
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It had been past your girls bed time when you were found snug, on the couch as you sat cuddled up with Art in front of the tv. The two of you were getting ready just in time to start your movie night after setting your eight and two year old daughters tucked away for the night. So as they were sound asleep, you and your husband could finally get some time to wind down together. Just you and your Art.
“So, what’s on the menu tonight, sweets ?” Art questioned you with a fond smile as he relaxed against the pillows by your side, a blanket and remote in hand with him.
“Hmm, I feel like a drama tonight, I dunno- or.. romance?” you slowly began to grin as you always wanted to get Art to feel the feels with you when it was your turn to pick the movie. Which led him to playfully groaning as he shook his head. Every week it was the same pick with you.
“Baby..” your husband chuckled as he pulled your legs across his lap. “You always wanna watch a drama- - I’m not sure if I’m up for tears tonight.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly as Art furrowed his brow in nervousness that you’d put on something that would have him reaching for the tissues for two hours.
“But crying during movies is fun!”
“Sure it is, but, there’s tons of other kinds of movies- - it is October now. What about something spooky?” The man did his best to convince you of watching anything other than another sappy film and you sighed as you sat in thought of his suggestion of scaring you into being paranoid all night.
“I suppose… but nothing too much. I wanna sleep tonight.” You titter and Art smirked.
“You’re fine. And if you do get scared, that’ll give me an excuse to hold you all night without you complaining that I’m suffocating you.” Art pulled you into his chest smoothly and you let out giggles as he wrapped both his broad arms around your body covered in your soft colored pajama set and comfy slippers.
Art was leaving kisses on your face before you heard the sound of tiny feet hitting the floor boards from the hallway. Approaching the living room, you and Art both looked down the way in which you heard the noise, sitting up when your two year old came running to the both of you.
“Daddy!” She yelled as she climbed the couch and collapsed straight in Arts embrace without any notion to you in your husbands grasp.
“Hey ! Hey.. angel, what’s wrong ? Did Lily wake you?”
Your daughter shook her head, and you leaned up as the tired child mumbled a bunch of unknown phrases with the occasional “daddy” in between being all the two of you could understand. You’d still been working on her vocabulary at the time being. So far, all she really knew was to ask for food, daddy, mommy (although she hardly used it because she always just wanted Art) and well.. Art.
He was her whole world these days. Most of the time ignoring you whenever her dad had been their to play and let her do parkour off of him. They were conjoined at the hip and it did give you more time to rest when Art had been home to be with the girls when you’d been the one with them most of the time while he was at tennis. It was like the moment he walked through the door they hadn’t even known of your existence anymore. Art would make jokes about being their favorite, but deep down he knew to remind the girls to love and appreciate their mama as well.
You smiled fondly as you reached to stroke your daughters hair, she laid her head on Arts chest like she’d been ready to go to bed. Wrapping her little arms around her dads torso as best as the sleepy girl could, like he was a pillow made just for her. It made your heart swell.
“I guess she couldn’t sleep again.”
“Yeah.. couldn’t sleep, my love?” Art coo’d as he glanced down at the baby, holding you and her as well as he could in his lap. He’d gotten better at it when it was a necessity to make himself shareable for all three of his girls. Most of his time at home with you all had been filled with each of you wanting him more than anything really, so luckily there was more than enough love to go around even for the busy man.
You leaned in and kissed the girls head softly before standing up.
“Well baby, it’s way past your bedtime. You gotta sleep so let’s get you up to your room-” as you reached to lift her from Arts hold, it was immediate whines and cries that come from the two year old.
“No!” She huffed and her pout was clear as she clung to Art away from your hands. Your shoulders dip in defeat as you sighed and looked up at your husband who already had an all knowing look on his expression of how this always went.
She had been like this gradually the last couple of weeks. She wouldn’t go down in her own bed or anywhere else unless Art held her to sleep. She wanted him every second of the day when it was time for her naps or just in general. Which hurt your heart at times when he’d be off at work because the little one would cry ferociously for her dad even with you. And as precious as you thought it was when they were together — her curled up in his arms, sought sound asleep with her cute cupids bows to her lip slightly agape against him, and eventually he would fall asleep with her as well. You wanted to be cuddled by your husband to sleep some nights too.
“C’mon baby, you gotta go to sleep. Daddy and I will stay with you, okay?..” you tried to take her hand, get her to want to sleep in her own bed with her own stuffed animals and right across from her big sister. But her stubbornness didn’t budge. She just fought off your hands and held on to Art as best as she could, tucking her face away in his shirt as you speak with soft whines.
“Princess, mommy wants you to sleep in your bed tonight. We gotta listen to her wishes…” Art tried to help with his soft but taunting tone. And your little one only pouted more, she turned away from you and hugged Art as the waterworks started. Your husband sighed and glanced back up at you.
“Just.. for tonight, why don’t we let her stay with us, babe?”
Art’s gentle nature matched his voice as he cradled his daughter closer in his embrace, leaving less space for you.
“But what about movie night..” you could of pouted too if you hadn’t remembered you’d been the one co in charge here, but Art only gave you a reassuring smile as he held the back of your head and brought you in for a sweet kiss.
“We can still have a movie. We’ll just have to keep quiet till she’s asleep than I’ll bring her back up. How does that sound, sweetness ?” Your husband handled it all so well, even better than you at moments you had to admit. Though you knew by the time your daughter had fallen asleep and your movie was over, you’d definitely be too beat for there to be any time to allude to anything else you and your husband could of spent doing. But you had to accept that. And even with your hand softly easing up on your little girl, you could only let it slip away with a soft breath before kissing goodbye your night alone with your husband.
“Fine, I guess it’ll be alright for tonight.” You spoke softly before looking down at your little one and rubbing her back tenderly.
Art couldn’t say he didn’t hope that he could’ve gotten just one night in between your daughters tough bedtime streak to enjoy you, especially since he just got a break from work. But as much as it would have been hard to say no to you, it was even harder for him to disregard his baby girl asking for him to bed. He just couldn’t resist. And to you it was never easy either — with the way she pleaded to be coddled. She had her daddy’s eyes, blue orbs with just a swirl of brown hinted in there looking up at you with pre-readied tears. His features standing out in her was always your weakest point especially when Art had looked right back at you to ask of her to stay. The night would come when you’d just have to send her back to bed. But that wasn’t gonna be tonight.
As the evening went on, you and Art did finish your movie and the man made sure to keep both of his girls supported comfortably by his side, you palmed the side of your daughters cheek as well as Arts and looked up to watched as his tired eyes stayed on the screen ahead of you three.
“How are we supposed to make more babies if we can’t even get one out of the way?” You whispered with an endearing smile as you traced the light patch of subtle on his face and Art couldn’t help but chuckle softly before leaning in to kiss your temple.
“The right time will come, my love.”
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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months ago
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My Tears Ricochet
Bambi!Wanda x Reader
Warning ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️
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Pain, trauma, grief, all things that can manifest itself in an instant if you’re not careful enough to treat it. For your doe mate, it all came back to her in an instant.
It all began when you and Wanda arrived at the Sanctuary to a whole commotion going on. You ran up to Yelena, Natasha’s wolf sestra, her tail swishing happily.
“What’s going on?!” You asked the blonde haired wolf.
“Natasha went on a solo op,” yelena smiled, “she caught Dreykov. Hauled him right into the courtroom”
“Dreykov?” Wanda asked. You noticed she went pale white, she started stumbling a little.
“Bambi?” Yelena asked before jumping and helping you to catch your die from falling.
Wanda was breathing heavily, her heart rate jumped as the world around her was blurring. She knew that name. In her mind, she was back in that horrible place.
The lights became too bright. The noises became too loud. Tears flooded Wanda’s eyes.
“Wanda?! Bambi?! Baby can you hear me?!Get her out of here!” The voices of you and Yelena seemed to intertwine as Wanda tried to focus herself. She couldn’t focus herself. It was all too much.
“Get away! Get away from me!!!” She shouted, throwing her arms around. You felt a slam of her hand and arm to your face and chest, you fell to the ground in total shock.
Wanda’s vision cleared just enough to see what she did to you. “D-detka? Baby I-I didn’t mean to…”
She bolted. Running down the hallway of the place she had started to see as home.
The only thing that echoed in her ear was you calling after her. “Wanda! Baby it’s okay! I’m fine! Wanda!!!”
Wanda practically locked herself in the supply closet. Curled up in the fetal position, Wanda tried again to steady her thoughts but the memories, the pain, the torture, it all came flooding back.
“Wanda?” Natasha’s calming voice called out to her.
“G-go away” she cried into her long sleeve shirt.
“We’re not going anywhere, my doe” you answered back. You sat there on the ground outside of the closet.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against the wood of the door.
“Baby you have nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured her.
It took a few days but Wanda found herself and you sitting in the waiting room of one Doctor Stephen Strange - the only doctor your doe trusted at this point. But even with that, she found herself shivering just being there.
You tried to reach across to take her hand and calm her but she retracted her hand from yours. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn for your touch. In her mind, she had hurt you too much already. The red bruise on your face was still evident. Just seeing it caused Wanda’s heart to shatter again.
In truth, the bruise didn’t bother you. Sting a little at first but you knew it was a defense mechanism and your doe could never hurt you intentionally. So you put on a brave face and tried to make sure she still felt loved. But she kept her distance from you still.
“Wanda?” Doctor Strange wandered into the waiting room, his honey badger tail waving side to side.
Wanda got up and you followed suit.
“Sorry (Y/N) this is just Wanda.” He offers you a sad smile. Wanda turns to you a little worried.
“I’m not going anywhere, my doe” you reassure her.
My doe. That phrase once gave her such comfort. Now it almost seemed like a cruel joke after the way she hit you. Wanda felt she could never forgive herself.
She gave you a solemn nod and walked off with Strange, leaving you alone in the waiting room.
Doctor Strange guided Wanda into his little office. She took to sitting on a couch while he took his favorite red chair.
“Wanda, first things first, this is a safe space,” he began softly, “ you can tell me anything and I won’t tell anyone outside of here. So what brings you to my office today?”
“A couple days back, I-I freaked out on my detka.” She tried to explain.
“A panic attack. Okay”
“I-I hit my detka. I-it was an accident! I-I didn’t mean to hurt my…”
Strange raised a hand up, “I know. It was an involuntary reaction to a traumatic memory.”
“Yes.” Wanda took a deep breath and laid her head against the couch’s arm.
“What do you feel triggered it?”
“Dreykov.” The answer came out as a mere whisper as the memories came flooding back again.
The story of her past. It kept her up in the early hours of the morning. The only thing that brought her a soothing balm was the feeling of your arms around her and now even that held a bad memory. All because of her actions.
Her story. The one she laid out for Doctor Strange was as followed:
Wanda Maximoff was born to her momma and poppa along with her twin brother Pietro. At a young age, she and her brother were called freaks for the antlers they had. She did everything she could to hide them, file them down, wear hats, and yet the humiliation continued.
Eventually, at only twelve years old, her home and parents were destroyed in an accident, leaving only Wanda and her brother to survive together. They were on the streets until age sixteen.
That’s when the facility, actually known as the Red Room, found them. The doctors and staff promised room, food and board. It was all a trap.
Countless hours of torture and near death experiences haunted them. Eventually Wanda and Pietro were separated.
Wanda felt truly alone. And then she met another deer hybrid by the name of Vision. He seemed to be from the British forests. He was nice, kind and caring.
Wanda found his kindness and compassion really endearing. She found herself falling in love with him.
Eventually she fell pregnant by him. But then the facility separated them too. And then came the needle pricks, the doctor’s probing, the loud noises, the heavy medication that kept her docile and unable to focus.
And then they came into the world. Her boys. Two of them. She whispered their names in their ears. Billy and Tommy. She was in love the moment she saw them. They were her hopes, her future, all wrapped into two small bodies.
The boys were with her for less than three months when the facility and its director Dreykov came and snatched them away from her. She begged and pleaded but they refused. She hadn’t seen her boys since.
And then came the task force. Natasha, her eventual wolf pal, led her team on the raid of the facility Wanda was trapped in. Natasha was stern yet motherly in all the right ways. A scientist was about to kill Wanda when Natasha burst into the room and slashed the guy to ribbons with her wolf claws.
“Hey there Bambi,” her eventual friend said, “wanna get out of here?” Wanda couldn’t get out of that facility faster.
Wanda then went on to explain how she met you and get butterflies instantly. She didn’t know what it was at the time but she knew she wanted to never leave your side again.
“And now I feel like I messed it up! All because of Dreykov.”
Strange looks to her, “Wanda you are NOT the villain here. You are a survivor. And a brave one at that”
“How do I move on? How do I learn to live again?”
Stephen chuckles, “seems like you’re doing a fine job already with (Y/N).”
“But I feel that I messed that up too!” Wanda buries her face in her hands.
“What would you hope to say to your boys?” Strange asks her gently. “Some day”
“They won’t hurt you ever again. Your momma and poppa will keep you safe. (y/N) is a good mate they will protect you” Wanda hugs her legs to her chest.
“Use that. Make it your mantra.” Stephen gently replies. He takes off his glasses and puts down his notepad, “you are stronger than you know. Smarter than you realize. And braver than most people.”
Tears begin to make their way down Wanda’s porcelain face. “Thank you Doctor Strange.”
“Only speaking the truth.” He gives her a sad smile. “Just take it slowly. You got yourself a wonderful support system with you. (Y/N), Natasha, and the rest of the staff at the sanctuary.”
Wanda gave it some thought. She had Natasha. And at the end of the day, she still had you. A small smile made its way across her face, “I do”
Wanda left that appointment feeling tired and yet a little confident too. You were right there in the waiting room, waiting on your doe.
She came right up to you and hugged you tight. “I love you so much” she whispered in your ear. You rubbed her back reassuringly, making sure that she felt every bit of love that she deserved.
“I love you, my doe” you kiss her shoulder affectionately, “I’m not going anywhere”
It was a long road ahead. But Wanda was confident she could face it. She had you. She had Natasha. And eventually she’d have Pietro and her boys back in her arms.
Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @julieromanoff @revanshand @russianredassassin @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
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violetsiren90 · 2 months ago
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*WIP Wednesday*
Pairing: masochist!Bang Chan x dominatrix!f!Reader (idol au) - ft. all Skz members
Genre: one-shot; professionals to ???; smut/angst/found family
Summary: When your favorite client comes to you with an unusual request, you're unprepared for the world, and the heart, you're drawn into.
Content warnings (for snippet only): 18+ (minors, DNI); it's really just a conversation and some allusions to pro dom services.
Word Count: TBD.
Author's Note: Serious question - how do we feel about this premise? I've got a few thousand words and some notes at this point, but I might fuck around and actually do this.
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Your brow furrows and your tongue slips between your lips as you take in what he’s just asked of you.
“…Go with you?” You blink.
He nods, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“I know you have other clients, so we’d compensate for that, of course, if you did agree to come. Make it worth your while.”
“How long are we talking?” you ask, already despising the notion of your freedom having a price for which it could be sold to the highest bidder.
You are a business woman, but ultimately you take orders from one person and one person alone: yourself. The phonebook of an NDA you’d had to sign to take Chris on as a client was a hefty enough imposition by JPY Entertainment on your professional autonomy. You tolerate it for his sake, as his whole world seemed to be one of bindings and restrictions - the least you can do is to offer him the sort that would grant him some sacred semblance of reprieve. Relief. You like Chris. That is the only reason you are even entertaining the current proposition.
“Honestly probably about a year,” he admits, raising his eyes to look at you with a little grimace.
You scoff softly, leaning back and crossing your arms as you tilt your head and offer him an expression that asks him to be serious. He smirks in return, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as his warm brown eyes find yours with confidence.
“I can afford it.”
Can he, now? Badly trying to repress a grin, you take in his words with a nod.
“Okay,” you posit, “Assuming you actually can…” you watch him shake his head, grin still plastered on his face, “…what would this look like?”
“Oh, um…” he glances at the ceiling with a little hum and widened eyes in a way that lets you know he’s just a tad nervous, and it makes the barriers you’d begun to construct against the matter at hand shift on their foundations. This fucking kid. “Well, you’d come along with our crew - under the title of physiotherapist, of course. Basically, you could see the world with us, come to our shows - and I could continue to take advantage of your...invaluable services.”
He follows his last remark with a smirk that is incredibly boyish, and certainly not the sort you’d expect from a man who just payed you top dollar to beat two orgasms out of his beautiful body.
You purse your lips as you consider.
“I’m not an escort service, Chris” you say, softly but firmly. “Or a toy to bring along on a trip. And my play rules wouldn’t change.”
He frowns a little, his handsome features schooling themselves with concern.
“No, no, of course not! You know that’s not what I think of you.”
It’s not phrased like a question, but you know he’s asking.
“I know,” you offer softly with a little smile, “Your company though?”
“This would be on your terms, there would be a contract meeting and everything,” he says earnestly.
He’s obviously thought this through. You sigh.
“How long until you need an answer? I have to think on it.”
“We leave for Australia on the 17th, so probably by the first of the month to make the all the arrangements and, y’know, yeah,” he says, standing as you do.
You grab your duffle and pull your lanyard over your neck.
“I’ll let you know in a day or two,” you remark, pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, and he smiles, pushing a hint of a dimple into his left cheek.
It’s a lazy, lopsided smile. The kind he only ever sports after your sessions, and never before. You think of that smile as you close the distance to your car, and wonder if you can bear the thought of its absence from that face for months on end - even if it wasn’t your problem, even if its owner was halfway across the planet.
“No, no…” you mutter with a sigh as you toss your duffle into the trunk and pull it shut. You slide into the front seat, eyes trailing back up to door that just closed behind you.
“Or…” you hiss out another sigh as your forehead gently collides with the steering wheel.
“…fuck.”
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